


Homeless

by madelinewrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Starvation, but overall pretty sweet and soft, could be triggering for some in that regard, flangsty, hunger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinewrites/pseuds/madelinewrites
Summary: Dean Winchester, lost and wanting, lets little consume his life other than his career. That is, until he stumbles upon a lonely homeless man outside his New York apartment. Suddenly, Dean can feel his priorities shifting, but how much he is willing to bet on the mysterious man he just met?





	Homeless

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Destiel
> 
> AU: Homeless!Castiel, Rich!Dean (think Dean Smith but less pretentious and more of a business jerk)
> 
> Summary: Dean Winchester, lost and wanting, lets little consume his life other than his career. That is, until he stumbles upon a lonely homeless man outside his New York apartment. Suddenly, Dean can feel his priorities shifting, but how much he is willing to bet on the mysterious man he just met?
> 
> If you’d like to join any of my tag lists please message/ ask or add yourself to my google doc tag list! Whatever is easiest for you!
> 
> Word Count: 2699
> 
> Warnings: Again, another flangsty fic. starvation/hunger for our little homeless!Cas
> 
> A/N: Ahh, I missed writing about my boys. In my head, Castiel is human here, just with a problematic family, but interpret however you wish! I hope you enjoy, and as always, FEEDBACK IS SO WONDERFULLY APPRECIATED!! MAKES MY DAY AND HELPS MONUMENTALLY, EVEN JUST A LIKE!

**“Home’s where you go when you run out of homes.”  
― [John le Carré](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.goodreads.com%2Fauthor%2Fshow%2F1411964.John_le_Carr_&t=OThhNzg1N2VjOTVkNTRlN2QzNmEzMjY1MGM4MWM4NGE1YTY2NDQxMCxjcFdNY256WA%3D%3D&b=t%3AluPKBkHePrWFoEVtGkY0Lg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdeansleather.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F160641490648%2Fhomeless&m=1), [The Honourable Schoolboy](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.goodreads.com%2Fwork%2Fquotes%2F79986&t=OTU2YjBjN2JhOTM0NGYzMzkzODBlYWJkM2ZmN2I4MzU1NDUyNzJkYyxjcFdNY256WA%3D%3D&b=t%3AluPKBkHePrWFoEVtGkY0Lg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdeansleather.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F160641490648%2Fhomeless&m=1)**

h             Dean’s finger strummed impatiently against the Italian leather of his briefcase as he waited for the final jolt of the subway. He could hardly bear the proximity to strangers that the subway forced him around, especially the quality of those in New York. As much as he loved his studio apartment in the Big Apple, he hated New York; the dirty streets, the constant noise, the obnoxious accent, the insufferable winters. He prayed for the day that his career transferred him to sunny L.A., where he might actually be able to find a successful business to run. Something about New York made Dean feel like a trapped rat, just another mindless robot going through the motions, running on the hamster wheel to nowhere. He was beginning to feel like he had no purpose at all. 

           Finally, the doors opened and he could escape the hell of the subway and of his thoughts. His pace was quick and confident, his gaze never going anywhere but straight ahead. Every once in a while, he would collide into another stranger, seeing as the city setting rarely allowed for any personal space, but his sheer strength always gave him the upper hand. Even so, he’d spout out a gruff “Watch it!” or “Look where you’re walking!” intermittently, just for the principle. 

            Finally, he mounted the stairs to some fresh air, or at least as fresh as it could be in a large city. The wind was bitter cold, and almost hurt as he inhaled it, yet he still took deep breaths in and out for a moment, just pausing to take in his surroundings. He could get so in his own head sometimes, and he always felt like his head was just barely above water. He tried to cut himself some slack, it had been a long day dealing with a lot of assholes at his office, he deserved a little leeway. Feeling just slightly more grounded, he began his short walk back to his apartment building.

             Of course, it had to begin snowing. Dean cussed under his breath, wrapping his coat tighter around his body. He could really use some vodka right about now. His walk became brisker, and the buzz of people around him started to dissipate as the sun quickly dipped lower and he began entering into his neighborhood. He had somehow managed to find a semi-peaceful neighborhood among the madness of New York, another reason his apartment was his only haven in his current hell life. Today though, there was one disconcerting nuance on his usually pristine streets; a single, pitiful homeless man.

             Dean sighed, wondering if he should try and cross the street to avoid the guy. No, that was ridiculous, his apartment was just a few buildings down from him. He should be used to this by now, he had lived in New York for a full year, and homeless people weren’t _unusual._ Still, his stomach turned every time he had to walk by one. When he was within earshot of the man, he heard the faintest “Please” whispered by him, even though there was no one walking near him. Dean’s steps must have frightened him, as he jumped about a foot high as they approached.

             “O-oh, excuse me,” he murmured, somehow managing to slink into an even smaller state. Dean just stood for a moment, his tall stature shadowing the man. Dean couldn’t understand his current emotion; was there a word for it? All he knew in that moment was that he couldn’t leave that man there, in the frigid cold weather, not in the state he was in. He ran a hand through his hair; compassion for the homeless was _so_ unlike him. 

                 “You know, there’s about a million jobs in New York, ever think about finding one?” Dean scolded halfheartedly, his voice feeling too sharp against the fragility of the man. Finally, he looked up to Dean, his face in the perfect spot for the streetlight to cover him. Dean couldn’t help it; he gasped. 

            The man was so…beautiful. His eyes seemed like neon signs, the light glittering off them like the snow around them. Bright, bright blue, with long black lashes, they instantly formed into the purest puppy-dog expression Dean had ever witnessed. Despite his pallor complexion, his lips were pink and plump, almost pouty. His emaciation highlighted what must naturally have been high cheekbones, and the scruff on his chin somehow managed to make him look more like a model than some poor guy begging for money. 

            “I…I know,” he managed, his teeth chattering. “I’m more of a failure than I can ever make up for. I know.”

            Dean was taken aback at this. He expected anger or belligerence or just pure ignorance, but not… _repentance._ Even with his attempt at disinterest, Dean still couldn’t let it go; no matter how it went, that man just couldn’t stay out in the cold. With an annoyed huff, Dean knelt down to be eye level with the beautiful stranger.

            “What’s your name?”  he sighed.

             “Castiel,” the man replied, his voice hoarse. Dean looked at him strangely. 

              “Castiel? What kind of name is that?”

             Castiel just shrugged, pulling his thin jacket tighter around himself. With a shake of his head, Dean began to put Castiel’s arm around his shoulder, heaving him up. “What’re you doing?” Castiel panicked. “I’ll go, I’m sorry, I don’t need to rest here.”He began to try and retract his arm, but Dean wouldn’t allow it.

         “Calm down, Cas. Can I call you Cas? You’re not in trouble, at least not with me. By the feel of your weight, though, you should be more worried about some Grim Reaper coming for you. When’s the last time you ate?”

      Cas just shrugged, looking at Dean with awe. “You don’t have to do this, really,” Cas assured as Dean began practically carrying him forward. “I deserve all that I have coming to me.”“Too late to go back now,” Dean mumbled, more to himself than anything. At this, Cas was quiet, and he remained that way until they reached the stairs of Dean’s sky scraping apartment. There weren’t many, but enough that Castiel looked intimidated.

          Without much thought, Dean gathered the starved man entirely in his arms, almost dropping his precious briefcase in the process. He swiftly carried him up the steps, barely breaking a sweat with the lack of weight Castiel consisted of. The more Dean felt him, the more he worried. They made it inside, and even when they entered the elevator Dean still kept Cas in his arms. It wasn’t until they entered the house that Dean set Cas down, but not until he kicked out one of his bar stools to sit him on. 

        “Alright,” Dean clapped his hands together. “Let’s get you something to eat.”  

         Cas remained silent as Dean searched around in his sparse kitchen. Most of his nights consisted of take out or business dinners. With some difficulty, Dean finally managed to throw together some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a side of chips. Dean apologized for the quality of the meal as he sat it in front of Cas, but he reacted as if it was a five-star meal. His fingers quickly stuffed a few chips into his mouth, eating all of them without breath. He began into the sandwich without pause, and Dean gently added more chips to his plate.

          “So,” Dean cleared his throat, setting the chips back in his cupboard. “What brings you to New York?” Dean wasn’t much used to _trying_ to be nice, he normally just went with his general disposition of gruffness. 

          “Passing through,” Cas grumbled between bites. “Was hoping to get one of those millions of jobs. Harder than it seems.”

        Dean blushed. Cas noticed, and while he felt bad, there was something thrilling about making Dean rosy.

          “I’m sorry,” Cas relented. “I really should be kissing your feet for this. It’s been a while since…since I’ve had any help at all. I guess I forget what it feels like.”

       “Don’t worry about it,” Dean assured, with the sincerest smile he could muster. “It was my words in the first place, wasn’t it?”

      They were silent after that, and Dean shuffled on his feet for a few moments before busying himself with running Cas a bath. He looked through his soaps. Should he use vanilla bubble bath? That was sweet and homey. But lavender was supposed to be calming, maybe that would be better? Why did he even care? He eventually decided on vanilla, but added just a bit of the lavender for good measure. Dean noticed his hands shaking, and wondered to what cause until he felt the butterflies when he saw Cas once more. What the hell had gotten into him? What effect was this stranger having on him?

             Playing nonchalant, Dean set some clothes down beside Cas on the counter and walked to his room, grunting a quick “Bath’s ready” on his way. Dean firmly shut his door, leaning against it for a moment for support. He felt dizzy; his mind running circles around the fact that that beautiful man would be mere feet away, completely unclothed and soapy. Dean could hardly believe his own reaction, and yet he didn’t hate it; something about it felt like being alive again. Like road trips with his brother, like when his mom would make him pie, when he somehow managed to earn one of his dad’s proud looks. There was something so thrilling about Castiel’s mere presence, and Dean had a feeling he might get addicted to it. 

          Finally, Dean heard Cas emerge from the bathroom, a pleasant sigh coming from him as he paced over Dean’s wood floor. Quickly, Dean threw on some pajamas of his own. He usually just wore some briefs and maybe some socks, but he decided that may be a bit much with a… _guest_ over. Dean had to keep reminding himself that he was helping Cas, not the other way around. He decided on the dark blue, silk pajamas he had gotten as a gift from a now-ex-girlfriend. They were a little on the tight side, but they would do.Dean finally gathered the courage to show his guest to his room, but not without a few deep breaths first. Dean halted as he came face to face with Cas, who was readying himself to knock on Dean’s door. Dean smirked at Cas’ new appearance; Dean’s t-shirt was much too big for him, and the sweatpants had to be tied to the point that the fabric bunched. Dean let out a small laugh. 

          “What is it?” Cas asked self-consciously, tugging the shirt lower in acknowledgment. “I know, I look ridiculous.” He shrugged. “But the clothes are very comfortable, thank you.”

          Dean shook his head, still smiling. “No, no you look grea-…you look fine, Cas. Let’s get you to bed, huh?”

          He brushed past Cas, quick to escape lest his blush be witnessed. He lead him to one of the many spare bedrooms, usually used after parties or as pretty reminders of how alone Dean really was. He picked the one just a few doors down from his own, just in case Cas may need him. The room was simple; black bed spread, striped curtains, a simple wooden dresser with a gold-framed mirror propped on top of it. It wasn’t much, but it was a castle to Cas, who exhaled thankfully.

          “This is wonderful, thank you so much-“Cas stopped, looking to Dean in thought.

          “What? Is something wrong? I have other rooms…” Dean began to walk towards the next room, but was quickly stopped by Cas’ increasingly strong voice.

         “No, no this is perfect for me. It just… I just realized I don’t even know your name, and yet you’ve done all this for me.” Cas extended his arms around him, gesturing towards the simple decorations.Dean hesitated. In that moment, in front of Cas in all his mangy yet beautiful glory, his name felt so insignificant. He cleared his throat, the lump that formed there starting to ache.

      “Dean,” he finally managed, his voice a lot rougher than it was moments before. 

       “Dean,” Cas repeated, the noise rolling off his tongue like music. Somehow, he made even something as inconsequential as Dean’s name better than it was. There was a moment of silence as Cas was lost in thought, before finally returning to reality, his eyes instantly reconnecting right on Dean’s. “I… That’s a nice name, Dean. It fits you.”

       Dean let out an embarrassed laugh, feeling the heat in his cheeks.

      “Yeah, that one syllable is really profound,” Dean half-heartedly retorted, backing out of the room. “Night, Cas.”

      “Goodnight, Dean.” Cas began pulling back his blankets as Dean closed the door behind him, quickly returning back to his own room. With a deep breath, Dean finally settled into his own bed. Dean couldn’t deny it anymore, not even to himself. He may not fully understand it, or why, but it was the truth. He really, really, _really_ liked Cas.

__

       Dean was awoken by a loud shout. Groggily, he looked over at his clock. 3:47 AM. Dean had fallen asleep outside the covers, sitting up, trying to figure himself out. It wasn’t often that things weren’t just cut and dry for Dean, and the whole deal with Castiel was definitely throwing him through some loops. One leg at a time, Dean managed to stand up out of his dead sleep. Before he could investigate the cause of the noise, it came knocking. With teary eyes and fussed hair, Cas peeked into Dean’s room sheepishly.

      “I’m so sorry,” Castiel murmured, immediately guilty looking at the exhausted appearance of Dean. 

      “What happened?” Dean grumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

       “I just…” Cas trailed off. “Maybe I should just go. I was stupid for thinking that I deserved the comfort.” 

       “Woah, woah,” Dean called, grabbing onto Cas’ arm before he could walk out. “What’re you talking about? What’s going on Cas? Is someone here?”

       Cas shook his head. “No, the noise was me. Nightmare.”

       Dean nodded, the terrified gleam in Cas’ eye making his claim easily believable. 

        “Alright, well, it’s all okay now, right?” Dean asked, patting Cas’ arm reassuringly.

        “Yes, but I really should leave.” 

        Reluctantly, Dean let go of his arm. “Okay,” he finally mustered. “But… _why?_ I mean, I don’t know if it changes anything but… I don’t want you to leave.”

        Cas rubbed his eyes harshly. “My entire family,” he sobbed. “I have entirely abandoned them. The rebellious son, the new black sheep. I have no one, no place to go, and all I’ve ever done since my departure is hurt people. All I wanted was to do good, but-“

      “Castiel,” Dean interrupted, grabbing onto his shoulders to break him out of his ramblings. “You… you have me.”

       Cas looked at him strangely, the words finally sinking in after a moment. 

     “What?” 

     “Look,” Dean muttered, clamping his eyes closed. “I don’t know how to say this but I want you here. I don’t understand it enough myself to explain it to you but…I can’t let you leave.” 

     Dean kept his eyes closed as Cas took this in, the silence weighing heavy on him. Ever so gently, Cas reached his hands up to Dean’s face, stroking his eyelids, beckoning them to open. Dean complied, and was faced instantly with the blues of Cas’ eyes. Cas’ hands slid down, cupping Dean’s jaw tenderly. With a dreamy expression, his eyes still teary, Cas pulled Dean in for a soft kiss. So soft, that it was barely a kiss at all, but it was enough. Dean, finally doing what felt right instead of always what he was told, took Cas’ hands in his. New York or Los Angeles, city or country, successful career or not, Dean knew wherever his life took him he wanted Cas to be there with him. They might not have known each other for more than a few hours, but Dean couldn’t bother to care. Cas was what he wanted, no matter the terms and conditions.

With a new-found sense of direction, Dean tugged on Cas’ hands. 

“C’mon,” he murmured gently. “Let’s get some sleep.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also found at: http://deansleather.tumblr.com/post/160641490648/homeless
> 
> Overall blog (feel free to follow or strike up conversation!): http://deansleather.tumblr.com/


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